


Erster Weltkrieg: weiße Wolken

by Monika-s Moniker (Dan_Francisco)



Series: The Sleepwalkers [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War I, Female My Unit | Byleth, Gen, promptfill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25451221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dan_Francisco/pseuds/Monika-s%20Moniker
Summary: In 1907, Byleth Eisner is asked to teach at Garreg Mach Monastery in Bohemia, setting her on a path that will involve her in one of Europe's largest and most destructive wars.
Series: The Sleepwalkers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861168
Comments: 7
Kudos: 7
Collections: Fanworks Club Monthly Prompts





	Erster Weltkrieg: weiße Wolken

**Author's Note:**

> A promptfill for the Fanworks Club discord - my prompt was Mountain - as well as a setup for a much larger, much longer series of WWI AUs for Fire Emblem: 3H. Right now I'm focusing on other projects, but do watch this fic for further chapters and the creation of a full-fledged 3H WWI AU series, because I cannot possibly fit all stories into a single fic and trying to do so would quite literally murder me.

_Garreg Mach Monastery, Bohemia_

_January 4 th, 1907_

Byleth sighed, staring at the massive monastery in front of her. She was really, honest-to-God here, about to teach at one of Europe’s most prestigious officer academies. This was the place that Tsar Peter I of Russia had learned of the Western world, where Germany’s Frederick the Great studied military science, the same school that the British and Austrian monarchs consorted and grew up in. The monastery itself dominated the Bohemian mountains it was nestled in, taller than the highest peaks around it specifically intended to act as a sentinel to the surrounding lands. Even though she was as American as they came, Byleth knew her history well – Rome had commissioned the construction of Garreg Mach to defend Bohemia from the dangers of the Reformation, and it still bore the scars of the Thirty Years’ War in select parts. Sure, it had been renovated and improved, each century adding on something new here and there, but Byleth could smell the pride – and the fear – of the Catholic Church emanating from its high walls.

Still, the monastery was famous in and outside of Europe for generating some of the world’s finest officers. It was at this school that genius tacticians like von Moltke the Elder and Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden studied. This monastery was attended by Roman Catholics, Protestants, Anglicans, Orthodox Russians and even Jews alike all intent on learning how best to conduct the terrible thing called war, and here Byleth was standing on the shoulders of giants. Her words would guide a new generation of officers in the major European capitals for God-knows how long. To say she was nervous, the academy’s second female teacher and first American teacher to boot, was an understatement in the extreme.

She headed into the entrance hall. Here, the new year of students had already arrived, watched over by the ceremonial guards that still wore the uniforms of the Landsknechte who had been assigned to the monastery upon its construction. There had to be hundreds of students here, all mingling regardless of social standing. In theory, anyway. Byleth couldn’t tell a noble from a well-off commoner, so for all she knew maybe they had already divided into their own circles. The conversations were in an eclectic mix of French, German, English, and Russian with occasional Italian and Spanish tossed in. A grand ceremony had apparently been planned for the arrival of the students and new faculty, as Seteth, Archbishop Rhea’s right-hand man, gave a speech in French to commemorate the first day together as staff and students.

“Overwhelming, isn’t it?” Byleth turned to see a man with gray hair, a mustache and goatee accompanying a monocle on his right eye. He stood facing the crowd, a slight German accent to his English. His clothes matched his hair – gray, with a long brown accent that marked the collar. “It happened to me too, when I came here.”

“I… don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” Byleth said. “Um, I’m Byleth Eisner. I’m one of the new professors.”

The man smiled, nodding. “Ah! Welcome! I’m Professor Hanneman. I’m sure you’ll like it here, Garreg Mach is one of the best military academies in Europe, after all, and we have a masterful reputation of creating the finest officers. Oh, but what is your specialty? I was so caught up on the academy, I didn’t think of what you’d be bringing to it! A renewed infantry focus, or perhaps horsemanship to rival Jeritza? O-or maybe new American methods of artillery planning and preparation?”

Byleth chuckled, nervously shaking her head. “I don’t have a particular specialty, to be frank. I learned a great deal of things from my father, though my appointment to this academy is a surprise to me as well.”

Hanneman gave her a strange look, before a wave of understanding crossed his face. “Ah, I see. I know who you are now – you’re Colonel Jeralt Eisner’s child, aren’t you?”

“Uh, I-I am,” Byleth said, surprised that he had even _heard_ of her father. She didn’t think anyone outside of the United States knew him. “How do you-”

“Know of your father?” Hanneman preempted, chuckling and clasping his hands behind his back. “A celebrated Spanish-American War veteran such as him is someone to be aware of, especially when he has a daughter that follows his footsteps into the military. I’ll certainly be taking an interest in your development, Miss Eisner. Or do you have a rank already?”

“No, just… Miss Eisner, thank you,” Byleth replied.

On their right, a woman approached, narrowing her eyes at Hanneman. “Hanneman! Are you boring the new professor with your endless talk? Give the poor woman some room to _breathe,_ why don’t you? Ugh, just _look_ at you, hovering over her like a specimen to be studied!”

“Ah, Miss Casagranda, I meant no harm! I was just getting to know our new colleague, that’s all!”

Miss Casagranda – actually, _the_ Manuela Casagranda, now that Byleth looked more closely – still shot Hanneman a suspicious look, before softening her gaze and turning to Byleth. “Well, regardless, please let me know if he ever becomes overbearing? He does love to talk so much.”

“Miss Casagranda, I’m Byleth Eisner. I’m glad to meet you,” Byleth said, nodding her head. Silently, she began to wonder if she needed to use French to teach here. That sort of detail hadn’t been included on the invitation letter. “If I may ask, what do you teach here? I thought you worked for the opera?

She smiled, her face lighting up at the mention of the opera. “Ah, those days are long behind me. I teach medicine and ethical staff skills, the sorts of things _other_ professors here forget to foster in their charges. After all, any well-rounded officer is one who is a master of not just the art of war, but the arts of medicine, science, culture and language. Where would the armies of the world be if their officers were brutes that didn’t even understand where they came from?”

The speech soon ended, and Seteth came over to them with a scowl on his face. He looked down on Byleth, before nodding in respect to Hanneman and Miss Casagranda. “Miss… Eisner, is it? I’ve been informed you are joining our academy this year. After this is done, I will show you to your quarters and your classroom.”

Before long, the students were released among themselves and the faculty, and almost immediately Byleth, Hanneman and Miss Casagranda were hounded by prospective students. Each one wanted to introduce themselves, display their preeminent knowledge and skills in the military arts, as well as probe them for potential weakness. Within a few moments, Byleth had been introduced rather improbably to the heiress to the Austro-Hungarian throne Lady Edelgard von Hresvelg, the most likely future prime minister of Germany Claude von Riegan, and the Tsarevich of Russia Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. Each one commanded the loyalties of other prospective officers from the corners of their various empires, and each one desperately wanted to be in her class for reasons entirely unknown to her.

Lady Edelgard sought the finest of educations, of course, and in that pursuit she believed Byleth’s instruction and non-European perspective would help her obtain just that. Tsarevich Blaiddyd thought she had something special about her, and desperately wanted to learn from her. The German, von Riegen, maintained that her American outlook was perfect for him and said they would work together perfectly. In the end, Byleth wondered how much it mattered. Surely there was no need for such factionalism, right? Wouldn’t they all be learning and teaching together? Either way, the plethora of personalities and people she was meeting soon began to overwhelm her, and the names, faces, and stories blurred together until finally Seteth relieved her.

The students were taken away to their dorms and allowed to settle in, which also allowed Seteth to show Byleth where she would be staying. Her room at the monastery was fairly utilitarian, with a premarked calendar showing important monastery events, exam dates and other things of note. Her bed was simple, as was the oak desk that dominated the room. A closet provided ample space for her clothes, and already the monastery had provided her with numerous books on military topics – mostly in French, she noticed – that lined the bookshelves.

“Your first week of instruction will be in seven days,” Seteth said. “I would advise going over basic leadership and logistics for the first month, and moving on to more advanced topics at the beginning of the next semester.”

“So soon?” Byleth said. “I had a few lesson plans drawn up, but…”

“Also, your students will come to you from time to time for more specific, focused instruction,” Seteth continued, ignoring her. “They will be driven by their own goals, all of which are in the booklet on your desk. They may also… change their mind, on occasion. You do not have to entertain these requests to change their focus, since you are meant to form these men and women into the finest officers possible. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, it does,” Byleth said, nodding. “Am I allowed to roam the monastery grounds? I would love to have the chance to see the view from the peaks.”

Seteth nodded, a tight-lipped look on his face. “Yes, you are allowed. Please do not stray into areas that you are barred from – fret not, the Knights of Saint Seiros are well-trained and will prevent you from straying too far. But please _don’t_ test their strength, if you must, you can spar with them at any time.”

“That’s reasonable. I will keep myself to where I am allowed,” Byleth said. “Oh, um, before you go, Seteth. Which class am I to teach?”

“You will be instructing the Black Eagles class initially, made up of students from the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Your assignment will rotate every year, except Year 4 where you will choose one of the graduating classes to personally instruct. Is this acceptable?”

“Yes, it is. Thank you.” Byleth said. That would be greatly beneficial – she could learn about all of the students then. Seteth soon departed, and after unpacking a few of her own things, Byleth decided it was time to head out to the monastery and truly explore it.

She first visited the overlook that, during the Thirty Years War was an important vantage point. From here, Bohemian fortress guards stood on the lookout for Austrian soldiers while also quelling the rebellion within their own walls. Despite the chaos of the Bohemian lands during the war, Garreg Mach had not once fallen during the entire conflict, a stance that the monastery was proud of even to this day. When war came to Europe, no army could ever seize Garreg Mach, which if she studied the land as well as she could from her spot here on the high castle walls, was a boon to anybody holding the Bohemian lands. Several stories below, Byleth could see somebody instructing pupils – whether they were knights or prospective officers, she couldn’t tell at this distance – in the fine art of bayonet drill.

Even further down, the verdant grounds of Garreg Mach contrasted with the gray peaks that surrounded the monastery, flanked by beige stone that no doubt was meticulously cleaned as much as humanly possible each day. Stained glass windows shrouded the interior rooms of the monastery, decorated with scenes of valor, God, success and tragedy, and if she approached the other side she could see the light shining through and providing a kaleidoscope of colors that dazzled the mind and, if she was feeling particularly poetic, inspired writing and art alike. Nevertheless, the tactician in Byleth forced her to think about every possible imaginary hostile force, assessing the strength of the castle walls and the layout of each pavilion and garden. Certainly, military technology had progressed since the monastery’s commissioning and even since the last battle disturbed its holy soil, but even Byleth found herself hard-pressed to imagine a scenario in which the monastery could fall.

Primarily difficult in attacking the monastery, Byleth decided, was that its slopes were incredibly treacherous even to a casual climber. The road up to Garreg Mach had been a rough one to trek, and even though Byleth had spent many months in the Rocky Mountains honing her mountaineering skills, Garreg Mach’s mountains were far more difficult than anything she had experienced in her life. Even with modern artillery and infantry weapons, any defender of Garreg Mach held such a commanding position that even mere students armed with obsolete single-shot breechloaders could easily hold off a serious attack. If the weather was as cold and snow-laden as today, that only complicated matters.

Of course, the snow-covered peaks of Garreg Mach were so beautiful to look at, Byleth scarcely dared to imagine that anyone would desire to bring war to this place. This monastery truly had everything – training grounds, shops full of goods from local Bohemian and Polish merchants, dormitories for the students, offices for the staff, not to mention the standard facilities for a church in the form of a large cathedral, a library, and a graveyard to host those who had fallen in service to the Church. A dining hall, greenhouse, and even a sauna further rounded out the church’s amenities. Even the nobles would not be in want during their stay here.

One of these days, Byleth decided, she should climb the peaks around Garreg Mach herself, see the apex of these mountains as those who had first built the monastery in the 16th century had. If she had some enthusiastic climbers in her class, or officers who were particularly interested in mountain warfare, she could spin such a venture as a field trip. After all, talking about climbing and actually doing it, especially with a full combat load, were two entirely different prospects. Though, she _did_ note that on her calendar there had been an event marked the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, marked as a training exercise for the students. Byleth wondered if this was combat on the peaks – if so, she should focus her work on the coming weeks in mountaineering skills. Even basic skills were necessary here.

Looking out at the snow-dotted peaks, Byleth sighed contentedly. This was a place she could see herself in for a long while. Something about the way the snow glistened against the late afternoon sun, brought light upon even the darkest corners of Garreg Mach and transferred alpine air to her, made Byleth believe that here anything was possible. Despite every concern she had – trying to teach in French, adapting to Bohemian life, living in the monastery, all the while providing a good example to her students – Byleth could believe that here, at Garreg Mach, she could become a great professor. And maybe, just maybe, there was somebody special here for her. After all, Dad had said countless times he had met Mom here. Why couldn’t Byleth be blessed with the same fate?


End file.
